


100%

by Trifoliate_undergrowth



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: 'just admit u want to kiss without making up an absurd excuse' the fic, (they do not do that. ..at first), Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, aggressively complimenting your coworkers, stupid ridiculous idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trifoliate_undergrowth/pseuds/Trifoliate_undergrowth
Summary: “Listen. I said this before and it’s only gotten more true. Everyone in K-sci,” Newton punctuated his words by poking his pointer finger into the table, “is incredibly smart and sexy and we are gonna save the world and we’re gonna be rockstars.”Hermann laughed.“Hey, it’s true!” said Newton. “Come on, you’re not going to argue me on this one, right? You’re constantly going on about how smart you are. If you try to argue with me on this I’m never believing a word you say ever again.”“Okay, sure, but the last time you said that was presumably when there were more people here. The sexiness percentage, at least, has… significantly decreased.”“No!!”--Or: budget cuts have gone through and Newt and Hermann are now the only people left in the lab. They're dealing with this uh..... well they're dealing some kinda way.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	100%

The thing about time is it keeps moving whether you can believe it or not. The fact that the PPDC, currently humanity’s best defense against total annihilation, would take a _budget cut_ still felt unthinkable. He was pretty sure both he and Newton were still slightly in shock. In the meantime, his team was gone and if he wanted anything done he was going to have to do it himself, and he was the only one predicting the times of kaiju attacks, which was kind of important to staying alive. Not that he wasn’t used to doing it on his own, but it felt like a safety net had just been snatched away and _did they even realize the danger they were in? was he the only one with any sense left on this world?_

Hermann paused to stretch out the kinks in his neck, dropped his chalk, and swore under his breath. He was perched on the ladder and the ground was inconveniently far away. He slumped into a more comfortable position and contemplated the trip down. Maybe it was time to stop for the night. (He couldn’t stop there was no one else who could do this). But he needed to sleep now if he was going to keep working later. Logic. And he would have to—his job was cyclical and never-ending, renewing itself with each attack, each new set of data to unravel, and he was doing it alone, and he would be for the foreseeable future, assuming they didn’t die very soon. Which they might, if he miscalculated. Because he was tired. Because he couldn’t sleep because he was panicking about the possibility of miscalculating.

The lab felt deserted, even though it was technically full—he and Newton would be the only ones using it now. It was their first day like this, and they’d both been scrambling to adapt to working alone.

Hermann had at first thought he’d hate having to work with a team. He wasn’t used to it and he didn’t like having to deal with people. But it had turned out to be quite helpful. Newton had actually gotten along well with his team, knew everyone’s story, could chat for hours. He was less good at actually getting work done, unsurprisingly—his side was constantly tackling miscommunications and mishaps, and he never prompted them to get back to work if they felt like standing around telling jokes instead; he’d generally join them. Hermann’s team, on the other hand, ran like a well-oiled machine, but he hadn’t been particularly close with any of them. Now he never would be. He found he couldn’t stop thinking about that, now they were really gone.

He wondered how they would remember him. Probably not very well.

“Uaaarrrrrghhhh,” he heard from across the room, and looked over to see Newton folded backwards over his chair, hands nearly touching the floor, apparently stretching his back. Or attempting to snap it in two, he couldn’t really tell. Newton abruptly unfolded himself, got up, stumbled sideways into a table, slung himself around the corner and swung the small specimen chiller open without bothering to straighten up. He smacked himself in the shoulder with the door.

He pulled a large bottle of coke out of the chiller, stood up and opened it.

“Hey Hermann, you want a drink?”

“…shouldn’t there be a rule about not putting food in the lab coolers?”

“Oh there definitely is.”

“Especially when they’re full of incredibly toxic specimens?”

“Oh they’re mostly inert, mostly. But hey. Not really anyone to set a good example for, is there? It’s just us.”

“Since when have you ever been a good example?”

“All the time!” said Newton, producing a bottle of whisky and dumping a generous amount into a dirty coffee mug, following it with far too little coke. “Anyways, if you want some, uh,” he looked around, “I dunno, find your own cup.”

“Since when do you have whisky in the lab?!”

Newton gestured at the empty lab in a ‘who honestly cares’ gesture and sat down. 

Well that was a stupendously bad idea even for Newton. And why not. As he said, there wasn’t anyone to impress. No one would be walking in on them. No one, in fact, was likely to be anywhere near the lab, which gave him an odd uncomfortable feeling he didn’t like to address. There were too many dark empty hallways here, haunted by the memories of those who’d been lost in the war.

He climbed down the ladder, went to his desk and unscrewed the lid of his water thermos. Newton, who seemed to have already gotten lost in his thoughts, looked up blankly when he set it on the table.

“You offered me a drink?”

“Oh my God you’re actually taking me up on that? Cool, great, sit down, it’s better than drinking alone.”

“It is.”

“So what do you want? I mean. I’ve just got whisky and coke. So like, either of those, or combined?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“OK, so like, what ratio?”

Hermann shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”

“I’m, uh, I mean I can take a lot of liquor.”

“And? Who am I going to embarrass myself in front of?”

“Hey, you’re starting to sound like me.”

“That’s alarming,” said Hermann, sitting down across from him and folding his arms on the table.

Why was he here? Because the room felt empty and it was better to huddle close, or because he didn’t want to make the long walk back to his even emptier room, or because he’d remembered that one day he and Newton would part ways as well and he wasn’t prepared for it? Regardless, he had no desire to leave. So they sat, sometimes talking and sometimes silent, slowly drinking and letting the whisky warm their blood. Hermann decided whisky and coke was, though not anywhere near the list of his preferred drinks, not the worst he’d had either. It was good enough for staying awake far longer than necessary in a deserted lab.

“Seems too quiet, huh?” said Newton, noticing him looking around the room.

“Mm.”

“Y’know, I was thinking—”

“This better not be an excuse for you to start playing that noisy music again.”

Newton laughed. “Well it would make it seem less deserted.”

“Less quiet, at any rate,” Hermann groaned. “Don’t. Headphones were invented for a reason.”

“To keep my beautiful tunes away from you?”

“ _Yes_.”

There was a pause. He found himself staring at the table, thinking about the number of empty hallways between them and the ocean, and how fast a kaiju claw could rip through all of them if given the chance.

“Worried?” said Newton, quietly.

Hermann lifted his head. “What do you think? We’re the best defense against,” he gestured in the general direction of the ocean with a sour expression rather than honor the threat with a name, “and they’re threatening to, what, shut down the program? Has everyone gone _insane_?” he shut himself up with another drink, then decided he wasn’t done and put his cup down quickly to continue, half-choking himself. “And the Marshall is obviously prioritizing the jaegers but they’re barely scraping by as it is, and here _we_ are in an empty lab expected to immediately figure out how to make everything work on our own! So, yes, you could say that. Aren’t you worried?”

“I mean, yeah.” Newton shrugged. “But I think we can handle it.”

“Seriously?”

“Listen. I said this before and it’s only gotten more true. Everyone in K-sci,” he punctuated his words by poking his pointer finger into the table, “is incredibly smart and sexy and we are gonna save the world and we’re gonna be rockstars.”

Hermann laughed.

“Hey, it’s true!” said Newton. “Come on, you’re not going to argue me on this one, right? You’re constantly going on about how smart you are. If you try to argue with me on this I’m never believing a word you say ever again.”

“Okay, sure, but the last time you said that was presumably when there were more people here. The sexiness percentage, at least, has… significantly decreased.”

“No!”

“It’s 50%, Newton, that’s not particularly impressive.”

“Ouch!! That’s cold!”

“What? Oh no we’re not having that conversation—”

“What? What conversation?”

“The Newton sexiness conversation, I’m just saying, it’s just you and me here, and I am 0% sexy, so”

“What! What! No you are not.”

Hermann wheezed. He was feeling a touch lightheaded. This was absurd but much better than doom and gloom and he accepted it. “What’s your basis for that claim?”

“Um, you’re sexy? It’s an inherent trait man don’t make me try to explain it.”

“There’s no way to look at this where I’m conventionally attractive.”

“Um, _conventionally attractive_ is both a moving target and a fucking joke. Like, look at me, I’m a tiny gremlin man and I pull it off super awesomely. I’m sexy as hell!” said Newt, leveling finger guns at him. “Societal standards are a cage made of random aesthetics that change every decade! Love yourself!”

Hermann was struggling not to descend into a laughing fit. “Alright, alright, I love myself, no cheerleading necessary, but that wasn’t your claim, you claimed K-science was entirely comprised of sexy individuals—”

“TRUTH!”

“And I am not,”

“UNTRUTH!”

“Then what’s your standard for sexy Newton?! It can’t just be a word that means nothing—”

“Hell yes it can! It means you’re awesome and good-looking and going to save the world!”

“Those are somethings but the word is specifically related to physical appearance, unless you’re just going to make up a new word that means sexy as a non-physical concept—” he was pretty sure he’d never even said “sexy” out loud before. It was a stupid word.

“Alright then what’s your definition? What’s sexy mean Hermann? Come on give me the textbook definition.”

“Uh,” said Hermann. “Um.” What _was_ the textbook definition. Newton banged his hands on the table in impatience. “Stop that I’m thinking!”

“Textbook definition Hermann! Or you have to stop grilling me for an explanation!”

“I mean, I guess it’s an eye of the beholder thing, isn’t it?”

“Oh, and you said _I_ was vague!” 

“Alright, alright! I’ve got it, so, like, if a—a significant amount of people would like to kiss you,” this was absurd, he was gesturing like he was explaining his data to the Marshall, “then you would be considered sexy?”

“A significant amount?”

“A nonzero amount?”

“Well there we go, I do have some issues with this but even going by this definition you are sexy,”

“What. Why.”

“I’m sure lots of people want to kiss you!”

“No they do not! Absolutely they do not!”

“Yes they do! Give it up! You’re wrong!”

“I am not wrong and I am not kissable! Name one!”

“Everyone!”

“I don’t believe you! Name one person who wants to kiss me, Newton!”

Newton slammed his mug down and stood up.

“Newton?”

He slung his legs over the table, tumbled inelegantly onto the bench next to Hermann, grabbed his face and kissed him firmly on the cheek.

“Refuted. Admit I’m right!”

“Ah,” said Hermann, and began laughing uncontrollably. He could feel his face flushing. “A-anything to make a point for you, huh?”

“You sit here WITHIN KISSING RANGE and you tell me you are not kissable when IN FACT you are VERY kissable,” said Newt, close enough that he felt his breath on his face—he’d probably have bad breath if the smell wasn’t currently overwhelmed with whisky-and-coke.

“I suppose anyone is kissable if the local Newt is determined enough,” said Hermann, trying to stop laughing and distracting himself with another drink. He nearly choked again when Newton distracted him by picking up his free hand and clasping it firmly between his.

“Admit I’m right.”

“What?”

“The Shatterdome K-Sci Department is 100% sexy. I’m sexy,” he jabbed himself in the chest with his pointer finger, “you’re sexy,” he poked Hermann, “and—” he paused in confusion, apparently remembering it was just the two of them. “…and YOU’RE sexy,” he finished, doubling down with a double-poke.

“Well, I suppose, based on the criteria we’ve established—”

Newton kissed the back of his hand, maintaining direct eye contact. It was a casual, almost reflexive gesture, and for some reason it threw him completely off track. He stopped mid-word, feeling that he’d turn into an incoherent mess if he tried to keep talking.

“You gotta say it, man,” said Newton, still waiting.

“What?” He’d sort of kept himself from noticing, up until now, how close together they were but fuck they were really close together, Newton’s knees almost touching his. Newton had his body angled to face him, one arm braced against the table and was looking up at him in flushed good humor. He was still holding Hermann’s hand and his hands were warm and oh no this was going to be something he couldn’t stop thinking about for the rest of the night wasn’t it. He was so close and he wanted to turn his body and shift closer—and that would put him right in front of him, close enough to touch without even thinking about it—

“Say you’re sexy and we’re gonna be rockstars,” said Newton, happily swinging his hand back and forth and then letting it go. Hermann reflexively pulled his arm back close to him.

“I—alright, I’m sexy?”

“That wasn’t convincing!”

“I’m sexy, shut up, I’m not saying the rockstar bit, that’s _your_ thing.”

Newton threw his arms up and whooped, arching his body backwards into the air, and Hermann found himself watching the flex of his muscles under his too-tight shirt. “Hell yeah we are my man!”

Hermann shifted, turning towards him, and when Newton came out of his victory stretch he almost bonked foreheads with him and recovered with an awkward gesture, ending up with one hand on Hermann’s arm. Hermann put a hand on Newton’s shoulder, steadying him. Not really something he would normally do. He could feel his heart racing. Newton had stopped laughing and was looking at him curiously.

“Uh, dude?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah?”

Hermann looked down at his hand on Newton’s shoulder. This was a horrible idea but he had to do it. Just to see what happened. He had to know. Don’t think about it or you’ll lose your nerve.

“So—” he looked back up at Newton—who was so close now and he wasn’t laughing anymore he was just looking right at him, waiting to hear what he had to say—“I’m not, ah, entirely convinced—”

“Hm?”

“I mean you could kiss anyone on the cheek, that’s not—um—necessarily a, a good indicator of—”

“You want me to kiss you for real?”

Hermann started to panic. He could _not_ admit how intensely he wanted that (how the words burned warm inside him) but he couldn’t be too casual about it and risk losing his chance either and oh no he was forgetting how to talk. _Help_. “If—you would like to, then, yes, I think that’s—a, a better indication of—”

“Well you _are_ the sexiest man in K-Sci,” said Newton, leaning in a little closer.

“Ah—one of them,” said Hermann, unsteadily.

Newton blinked at him, apparently thrown off by this.

“Oh yeah? Who else is—”

“ _Who else_? Are we really doing this?”

“What? I mean, are you thinking of a specific person or—”

“Newton! We’re the only people here!”

“Ohhh yeah. Wait! You think _I’m_ sexy?”

“Newton this was your whole _thing_!” It was incredibly, unbelievably, frustratingly typical of them that trying to _kiss_ would somehow turn into an _argument_. “Have we not just been having this whole discussion—”

“Okay, but _you_ , personally, think _I’m_ sexy?”

“Newton you absolute cretin,” said Hermann, grabbing him by the collar and kissing him on the mouth. Newton made a faint, pleasantly startled sound and let himself sway to the side, stopping against the table, pulling Hermann after him with a handful of his sweater. Hermann shifted closer and kissed him again, firmly, heart racing with the expectation that any moment now Newton would push him away and laugh it off and he would have to try to forget, but he didn’t. He looped an arm around Hermann’s neck and pulled him closer until Hermann was practically on top of him, pinning him to the table, and they kissed again, slowly.

“ _That_ was convincing,” said Hermann breathlessly, waiting to see how Newton would react. He had his eyes closed. “…Newton? Are you awake?”

“Hmm yeah.” Newton blinked up at him and gave a sloppy grin. “Actually. No I’m not sure I’m convinced, maybe you should do that again.”

Hermann smiled, feeling some of his tension melt away.

For better or for worse, it was just the two of them now, and no one had to know how late they stayed in the lab that night. The next morning was rough for both of them—Newton, despite his claims of good alcohol tolerance, had a nasty hangover and Hermann was sore from sleeping curled around Newton on the lab couch—but they were happy, even if the lab seemed a little too quiet. At least they weren’t alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this like months ago i think like 'oh yeah this is just a short silly little fun ficlet it'll be done in no time' and then i just!! could not finish it for some reason. until today. when I was suddenly like "oh okay here's a conclusion. wow that was easy' why do words


End file.
